


Let It All Go

by TomorrowNeverCame



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: 200th Madam Spellman fic whoo, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Everyone is emotional, F/F, Hilda explains friendship to Lilith, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lilith helps, Past Rape/Non-con, Spoilers for Part 2, When is AO3 gonna change the Madam Satan tag to Lilith?, Zelda deals with trauma, Zelda has nightmares, pre-relationship Madam Spellman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 02:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18437000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomorrowNeverCame/pseuds/TomorrowNeverCame
Summary: In the aftermath of her ascension to High Priestess, Zelda is trying to cope with everything Blackwood did to her.Hilda knows her sister needs someone to talk to--someone she's not responsible for and who understands what she's going through.So she calls Lilith.TW: brief discussion of rape, mention of past self harm, implied alcohol abuse





	Let It All Go

**Author's Note:**

> Finally broke down and wrote something for this fandom! I loved Part 2, and it has inspired so many story ideas, but the more I've thought about it, the more I'm really disappointed about how Zelda's trauma was handled. Sabrina had no reaction, and even Hilda seemed just concerned and perplexed when they all should have been outraged. And Zelda, poor Zelda, had to march right back into the Academy and pretend everything was fine without taking even a moment to process. She never even got the closure of revenge on Blackwood, since their only other significant interaction after the spell was broken was all about Leticia.
> 
> I really hope Part 3 addresses the affect that experience had on her, especially with the knowledge that Blackwood is still out there somewhere, and I hope that Lilith helps her, since she's had many similar experiences of being forced into submission. In the meantime, here's this.

“Alright, here we go,” Hilda whispers to herself, kneeling beside her bed with hands clasped. “Lilith? Um, Queen Lilith? Sorry, I know you’ve got titles and all, but it feels a bit strange to use them when we’ve known you for so long—not that we knew it was you, of course.” She shakes her head. “Anyways. I don’t know if you’ll be able to hear my prayer like you can always hear Zelda’s, but I hope so, because it’s her I’m worried about. She’s a brilliant leader—not that I ever doubted she would be—but she’s not taking care of herself. She won’t sleep unless she drinks enough, and I think I know why, but she won’t talk to me. I need help, and I think you might be the only person who can get through to her.”

 

“If she won’t talk to her own sister, what do you think I can do?” Hilda yelps, spinning around to find Lilith lounging against her vanity.

 

“Bloody Hell, how long have you been there?” Lilith shrugs, grinning at Hilda’s irritation.

 

“Since I heard you calling my name.”

 

“Well, you could have stopped me at any time, you know.”

 

“I could have,” she agrees. “But I was curious. You’ve never prayed for anything specific before.” Her smile finally slips as she clasps her arms in front of her. “So, what’s wrong with Zelda?” Hilda sighs, sitting on the bed heavily.

 

“We all went through a lot before Lucifer was…imprisoned, but Zelda more than most. It’s not my place to tell you what, but some awful things happened to her. I hear her crying in the middle of the night or find her passed out at her desk. I can’t even tell anymore if it’s from alcohol or sheer exhaustion. The students haven’t noticed yet how rundown she is, but they will soon. She needs to talk to someone.”

 

“Why me?” 

 

“She won’t listen to anyone else. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

 

“But you’re her sister. Surely, if anyone—“

 

“No, it’s because I’m her sister that she won’t,” Hilda explains. “No matter how old we get, I’ll always be her baby sister, and she’ll always think it’s her job to be strong for me. She’s always been like that, holding herself to a higher standard than anyone else, taking on the weight of the world without anyone asking her to.” Lilith chuckles in agreement; that’s definitely Zelda. "And now that she’s high priestess, she has a whole coven relying on her. You are the one person that she does not feel personally responsible for. You’re equals—friends, even.” Lilith frowns.

 

“I don’t know if I’d go that far. She’s my high priestess.” Hilda rolls her eyes.

 

“Honestly,” she mutters. “You care about her opinion of you, don’t you? You enjoy her company? I know you tell each other personal things about yourselves. And clearly the thought of her hurting bothers you, else you wouldn’t be here. And she feels the same about you so, congratulations, you have a friend. I know it’s a very human concept, but you are, in fact, part human, so I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”

 

“Point taken, Miss Spellman,” Lilith responds with a mild glare. “What do you suggest I do?” Hilda chuckles nervously; it really is hard to remember you’re talking to a demon queen when she still looks like your niece’s civics teacher.

 

“Be yourself?” That merely earns her a raised eyebrow. Still, better than the glaring. “I’m serious. You know her better than you think. You’ll know what she needs."

 

“I hope so,” Lilith sighs, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she pushes off the table. “Where is she?”

 

Hilda positively beams at her, making Lilith roll her eyes again as she’s led down to the parlor. She can’t quite figure out when she became so fond of the Spellman family, but she had, or else Hilda never would have gotten away with treating her like an emotionally-stunted teenager. Although, perhaps she is one. Living Mary Wardwell’s life had brought back so many long-forgotten sensations: belonging, satisfaction, happiness, hope. And she feels them most strongly with the Spellmans and their coven. Especially Zelda. Of course, she's liked the woman since meeting her, drawn to that kindred sense of ambition even knowing how dangerous it made her, but friendship seems too simple to describe the bond they’ve forged since becoming queen and high priestess.

 

“Evening,” she greets as she enters the parlor. Zelda twists around in surprise.

 

“Lilith.” Her high priestess sits in the dark save for the fire that sets her hair aflame and turns the drink in her hand to amber. “What are you doing here? Do you need something?”

 

“No, but I thought you might.” Her brow pulls together in momentary confusion, but she waves it—and Lilith—off with her glass.

 

“I didn’t summon you.”

 

“No, that was me,” Hilda admits, finally edging out from behind the doorway.

 

“Hilda? Why in the name of—” 

 

“I can’t stand seeing you like this!” She yells suddenly, making both women flinch. "The drinking and smoking, not sleeping—I’m afraid you’ll start hurting yourself again.” Now, that catches Lilith’s attention. "You’re in pain, Zelds, and you need to talk to someone.” Zelda simply turns back around.

 

“There’s no way you could possibly understand.”

 

“I believe that’s why she called me,” Lilith cuts off Hilda’s next words, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You can go to bed now. I’ll take care of her.”

 

“Are you sure? I can—“

 

“Go to bed, Hilda,” Zelda snaps. 

 

“Right, then,” Hilda sighs. “I’ll leave you to it.” Lilith offers her what she hopes is an encouraging smile, waiting until she disappears down the hall before approaching Zelda.

 

“She’s just worried about you, you know. And with good reason, from what I’ve heard,” she says, plucking the tumbler of scotch from Zelda’s hand and downing its contents. Zelda finally tears her eyes away from the fire to glare up at her.

 

“That was mine.”

 

“For this conversation, I think it’s better for both of us that I drank it.” She perches on the coffee table, propping one hand under her chin with a sly smile. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to guess?” Zelda’s glassy eyes can only hold hers for a moment. 

 

“It’s none of your concern.” Lilith sighs.

 

“Alright, we’ll do it your way. Is it about Sabrina? About everything that happened?” Zelda’s bottom lip trembles, and Lilith takes it as a yes. “It must have been scary,” she continues, watching Zelda’s face intently for any reactions, “must _be_ scary, to know she’s so powerful and that so many people might want to use her. But we defeated Lucifer, Zelda. She’s safe now, and if she ever isn’t then we will protect her. You will protect her. You always have and always will.”

 

“I didn’t,” Zelda rasps, tears finally making their silent escape.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“She _died_.” Zelda finally looks at her, and Lilith’s breath catches at the anguish in her expression. “She was killed by witch hunters. Other witches were killed. Ambrose was tortured and his execution date set, and I was half way across the world dancing.” Lilith frowns, placing a hand on Zelda’s white-knuckled fist.

 

“It’s not your fault that they couldn’t reach you. The reception in the Necropolis—“

 

“It wasn’t the reception.” Zelda shakes her off, rising and retreating to the fireplace, pacing wildly. “It was me. I didn’t answer when Hilda called, because  Faustus told me not to. I obeyed him. No matter how much I screamed and fought, I couldn't resist. My family was terrified, and I was helpless."

 

“Zelda.” The witch jumps as she turns to find Lilith in front of her, too lost in thought to hear the woman move. The cold fury in Lilith’s eyes makes her heart race. “I need you to tell me exactly what Blackwood did to you.” Zelda swallows thickly, searching the carpet for the words she needs.

 

“The Caligari spell,” she whispers, then flinches as the fire surges. Lilith exhales long and slow, pinching the bridge of her nose and trying desperately to think. After a long moment of silence, she opens her eyes and holds out her hands.

 

“Will you come with me?”

 

“Where?”

 

“Somewhere neither of us have to worry about controlling ourselves.” Zelda frowns but nods, grasping Lilith’s hands and letting her whisper the spell to take them away. 

 

In the next moment, they're in the depths of Moon Valley.

 

Lilith still holds her hands tightly, glare landing on a small tree and sending it up in flames.

 

“When I get my hands on that man, I’ll gut him alive,” she snarls. “I’ll string him up in the hottest desert of Hell and let the vultures—“ She freezes when she hears the sobs, refocusing on the trembling woman before her. “Oh, Zelda.” The witch stiffens at the attention, struggling to regulate her breaths. She rubs at her cheeks until Lilith pulls her hands back down and laces their fingers. “Stop, darling. You have to let it out. I know letting go is scary, but you’re safe. You don’t have to be strong for anyone.” Zelda nods without looking up and squeezes her hands.

 

“He…he gave me the music box on the first night, as a wedding present. He asked me to dance when it started playing. I was still angry with him, but I said yes. I had a plan, you see. I knew he wanted me—he’d wanted me for years—and thought that if I could marry him, I could whisper in his ear. Curb his more…outlandish ideas of reformation, and keep him from being too harsh on Sabrina. It would be worth the rumors, the embarrassment—I’ve never had much energy for caring what other people think of me—worth holding my tongue for a while. But then, the night before the wedding, the Anti-Pope was killed. I watched Faustus slaughter three warlocks on the spot, and Ambrose barely got away. It scared me, but what could I do? The wedding was the next day! If I changed my mind, the humiliation, my _family_ —“

 

“You did what you thought you had to do.” Zelda looks up at the full moon and laughs bitterly.

 

“Sabrina was right. She kept trying to stop the wedding and protect me, and I was so angry with her. Didn’t she realize I was doing it all to protect her?”

 

“It seems like that’s always the way with you two,” Lilith murmurs with a small smile. “What happened when you got to Rome?”

 

“We danced, and I-I relaxed. Things were going according to plan, despite a few hitches. I thought it would just take more work, more patience, than I’d thought.” She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “And then I started to get tired.”

 

“The spell took hold.”

 

“I was so groggy when Faustus woke me up the next morning that I didn’t realize anything was wrong at first. He was looking at me with the oddest expression, and I just waited for him to say something. I suppose he was trying to figure out if the spell worked. That’s when he showed me the dress he’d bought me, this ghastly yellow thing. I wanted to laugh in his face, ask him—ask him what the heaven he was thinking,” she stutters through her tears, “and I _couldn’t_. I felt myself smile, heard myself say how beautiful it was, but my voice—my voice wasn’t my _voice_.” Lilith’s heart breaks at her wide-eyed horror. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to look in the mirror and see a stranger?”

 

“I can imagine.” But she chose the stranger, dressed them up and painted their faces until she liked what she saw. And she never made the owner stick around to watch. “You must have been terrified.”

 

“I tried everything. I focused every ounce of my magic, used every spell I could think of—I screamed so loud I gave myself a headache. Nothing I did made a difference. I just smiled and poured tea and jumped whenever he snapped his fingers. And he-he enjoyed it. I saw how much he was enjoying it. He told me how beautiful I was, called me Lady Blackwood, made me tell him how much I enjoyed serving him…he gloated. Told me all about how much he hated Edward, how he used Ambrose and was just waiting for the chance to expel Sabrina, how he—how much pleasure it gave him to watch the infamous Zelda Spellman beg for his favor, his power.” She covers face with her hands, though it does little to muffle her sobs. Tears stinging her own eyes, Lilith reaches for her—and stops short.

 

“Will you—“ she begins hoarsely, licking her dry lips. “May I hold you?” Zelda nods, and Lilith catches her when she practically falls into her arms. Zelda clings to her shoulders, burying her face there.

 

“I was such a fool, Lilith. A blind, arrogant fool.” 

 

“Hush.” Lilith rests their temples together, speaking softly in her ear. “Whatever you did or didn’t do, you are not responsible for this. His actions are his.” She hugs Zelda tighter, eyes fluttering shut as she braces herself for her next question. “Zelda—please forgive me, darling, I have to ask—it was your honeymoon. Did he…” 

 

“Want to have sex with his pretty new bride?” Her voice cracks on the question, and Lilith hopes she'll stop there; the hot tears on her neck are enough of an answer. “Of course he did. And a good wife never refuses her husband.”

 

“That was not sex,” she growls. “You can’t have sex if you can't consent, and he took that ability away from you. He raped you.”

 

“I know,” Zelda whispers. It's the most she can say, even after all these weeks; everything else gets stuck in her throat and chokes her.

 

“I’m so sorry.”

 

Zelda is quiet for a long time. Her breathing evens out, and Lilith would think she’s fallen asleep if it isn't for the occasional flutter of eyelashes against her skin. So she sways gently on the spot, and she waits.

 

“I’ve been having nightmares,” Zelda says eventually. “I dream about the music and the twirling and of watching from the outside as my body does terrible things, and I wonder if one day I’ll wake up to find myself trapped again."

 

“You can’t go on like this much longer. What can I do for you?”

 

“I don’t know. I’ve always been prone to nightmares, that’s why Hilda and I always shared a room until she started dating that Dr. Cerberus…Having someone near helps.”

 

“So, it would help if I stayed with you?” Zelda pulls back, eyeing the demoness in surprise.

 

“Lilith, you don’t—” 

 

“Yes or no question, Spellman,” Lilith quips, and smiles wide when it earns her an eye roll.

 

“Yes, it would help. Happy?”

 

“Very.” Holding tight to Zelda’s waist, she asks, “Are you ready?”

 

At Zelda’s nod, they appear back in her bedroom, finally breaking their embrace. 

 

“I’m going to go get changed,” Zelda mumbles, suddenly shy in the harsh lamp light. The darkness had been a comfort, a layer of protection while she laid her heart bare, and now she was exposed. Her makeup must be in a state. 

 

Lilith watches silently as she gathers a nightgown and disappears into the bathroom before sitting on the edge of the bed with a sigh. She runs a hand over her tired eyes, where tears have been threatening to appear all night. Zelda’s story is sickening and far, far too familiar. But tonight is not about her, so she smiles gently when Zelda returns, and stands.

 

“Where do you want me?” 

 

“Wherever you want.” Lilith rolls her eyes.

 

“What I want is to help you. What do _you_ want, Zelda?” Zelda pauses, eyes darting between the bed and the chair in the corner.

 

“Fine,” she sighs, climbing into bed and looking up at Lilith. The demoness raises a brow in question, lips quirking in amusement as Zelda blushes. “Well, are you just going to stand there?"

 

“Not at all,” Lilith chuckles, magicking herself into a modest (by her standards, anyway) nightgown and slipping under the covers. Zelda lays staring up at the ceiling, so Lilith settles on her side to look at her, having just a little fun watching the wheels turn in her head.

 

“Oh, for Hell’s sake,” Zelda huffs after a few minutes of scrutiny, turning to face her companion. In a moment, she’s clutching Lilith’s waist, forehead coming to rest on her collarbone. Blinking in faint surprise, Lilith wraps her arms around Zelda’s shoulders, smiling fondly when she sinks into the embrace.

 

“Who knew the ferocious Zelda Spellman was so cuddly?”

 

“Shut up. You offered.” Lilith does as requested, pressing an impulsive kiss into her hair as a reply. They simply lay together for a while, their only movements coming with the rise and fall of each other’s chests. Lilith breaks the silence just as Zelda is on the cusp of sleep.

 

“You should tell Hilda about the nightmares. I’ll come whenever you call, but she could help, too. You don’t have explain what they’re about, but you should tell her. She’s worried about you.”

 

“I will,” Zelda promises, and Lilith can sense the next question in the way her breath stops warming her skin. “Why did you come?”

 

“Why wouldn’t I? You needed me.”

 

“You have no reason to care about my problems.”

 

“Well,” Lilith hums, running her fingers through soft copper locks, "that’s just not true. I’ve told you before, we’re partners in this. Here we stand, side by side at the top of the pyramid. As high priestess, you carry the burdens of all your congregants. But who carries your burdens, if not me? Especially when I understand them so well.” 

 

“I’m sorry, if…if listening to me talk brought up bad memories.” Lilith shrugs.

 

“It’s not your fault, and nothing I can’t handle.”

 

“Still—“

 

“Hush now, you need your beauty sleep.” She can feel Zelda’s grin.

 

“Okay,” she whispers. “But remember that I can help carry your burdens, too.”

 

“I know, darling. Thank you.” 

 

Zelda burrows into her and falls asleep within minutes, with Lilith not far behind. She’s there when Zelda wakes up gasping, to push the damp hair away from her face and whisper soothing words in her ear. She turns Zelda around and presses firmly against her back, instructing her to breathe deeply. A few tears dampen both their cheeks, but Zelda slips into a deep, dreamless sleep with their hands entwined. 

 

And the queen of Hell watches over her until morning.

**Author's Note:**

> As I said, this is my first time writing for this ship, so constructive criticism is appreciated! I know they get pretty soft, but after all the new sides of Lilith we saw in Part 2, I do see her as very human. She's a very emotional character who I think would be capable of great empathy if she actually formed significant bonds with people--especially empathy for Zelda, whose experiences relate so strongly to her own.


End file.
